


“It's Only A Matter Of Time”

by Cloudnine101



Series: Queer [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Bad Puns, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Music, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudnine101/pseuds/Cloudnine101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>You place your hands on his hips.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Remember, Eggsy - what goes up must come down."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	“It's Only A Matter Of Time”

Eggsy's standing in the kitchen. He has his back to you. He's swaying, slightly. The radio's playing, and he's wearing your shirt. He's dumped his blazer on the sofa, and he's lounging backwards, elbows against the counter. Grinning.

"Hey," he says, and you swallow, because you cannot help yourself. "Harry."

"Hello," you reply, as evenly as you can. It doesn't seem to fool him. "Wipe that smirk off your face."

He pads towards you, still smiling, tea towel draped over his shoulder. His feet are bare. He's whistling.

"I know," he sings, voice soft and gentle and sweet, "you'll pass my way again."

You rolls your eyes. "Eggsy - "

" - just a matter of time." He pauses in front of you, and looks at you. Just looks. Unmoving. "Harry."

He wraps his arms around your neck, swaying smoothly. You place your hands on his hips.

"Remember, Eggsy - what goes up must come down."

Eggsy coughs. He turns the colour of beetroot.

"Oi!" he says, and snaps the towel at your face. You dodge, taking a step to the side. "My love was a - ah - love!"

"Don't you mean true?" You angle yourself sideways, an inch out of reach. "Isn't this the part where you say 'it's just a matter of time'?"

"Well, it is though, ain't it?" Eggsy sniggers behind his hand. "'Til we're - "

"Brontë," you interject, "Charlotte. _Jane Eyre_. Throes of passion. Unrequited love."

Sighing, Eggsy spins away, and switches the radio off. "S'pose that means we're bein' serious, then."

"Yes, Eggsy, we are being serious. I do actually plan on helping you. I'm not that bad."

"You're not? News to me."

"Be quiet."

Eggsy presses a finger against his lips, and collapses sideways, with a long-suffering moan. He puts his feet up on a cushion.

"Alright, mate. Brontë."

You seat yourself, a respectable distance away. His soles are close enough to touch. The sofa strains.

"Let's talk about Mr Rochester," you say. "What's your first impression?"

Eggsy shrugs. "Big, moody bloke, ain't he? Likes Jane. Pretends to like - err - "

"I know you can take that further. Don't deny it."

Eggsy uncovers his face, and sits up. "Fine. So, he likes Jane, right? Tryin' to get her interested, by goin' out with - what's she called? The pretty one."

"Blanche Ingram. If you can't remember the names of the characters - "

"How can I expect to write an essay? Yeah. Got it, sir." Eggsy mock salutes. You hit him with a cushion. "Okay! Blanche. And she's good lookin', and rich - opposite of Jane. Everything she wants to be. Right? So Mr Rochester's tryin' to make her jealous, by - by forcin' her to compare herself with someone she can't be, which is what she presumes he wants."

Eggsy slumps back against the cushions, energy drained.

"Good work," you say, "now all you need to do is find quotes to support it."

"Harry!"

"I'm your teacher. And as your teacher, I expect you to work."

Eggsy leers, eyelashes flapping a mile a minute. "I'll work for you."

"Not until you get this completed," you say. "Whatever will your friend think we're doing in here? Alone? At night?"

With a sudden burst of manic movement, Eggsy bursts forward, and plants a kiss on your cheek. His lips are coarse. As they draw away, they sting. His stubble scrapes.

You cough.

"Yes," you say. "Quite. Now. Quotes."

Eggsy harrumphs, and sticks his hands over his ears. You take them down. He puts them back up. You repeat the motion. 

"Eggsy." 

His is eyes flutter shut. 

"Say that again, yeah?" 

"I will. _If_ you do this." 

"Harry," Eggsy says. _Reprimands_. 

"Eggsy." 

Eggsy's throat works. His jaw moves. 

It is all you can do to stop yourself leaning across, and taking his face in your hands, and kissing him until neither of you can see anything. 

"Later," you say; and you promise. 


End file.
